


Ferdibert Week 2019 Drabbles

by whimsicott



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ferdibert Week 2019, M/M, Mostly short fluff, Warnings in Author’s Note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicott/pseuds/whimsicott
Summary: Collection of Drabbles for Ferdibert Week 2019
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Ferdibert Ship Week 2019





	1. Day 1: Teatime

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 is really the only exception, every other day I think will be perfectly fluffy,
> 
> Day 1 warning: character death

Hubert chose their tea that afternoon, but that hardly mattered. Not with how their tea had grown cold as the sun set in the sky above them. The usually pungent scent of the Dagda fruit blend was mild now, the taste twisted as the tea cooled.

Ferdinand complained, because of course he did, this was a waste of perfectly good tea. Perfectly good, expensive tea, and Hubert had scoffed, telling him that Ferdinand wasn’t paying anyway.

And in truth, Ferdinand did not mind. Ferdinand himself was engrossed in their conversation. In their almost arguments about everything that seemed to matter and in the same thing, everything that would never matter at all.

Beside, Garreg Mach was beautiful that afternoon, tinted orange in sunset and autumn leaves. 

And when Hubert parted his lips to argue yet another point, Ferdinand couldn’t help a small smile, one he hoped Hubert did not notice as he argued back.

Ferdinand chose his own tea that afternoon, but that hardly mattered. It was the Dagda fruit blend that Hubert would have chosen, and it had grown cold like it would whenever he shared it with Hubert. He had left it to brew for far too long, however, and now it was strong and pungent and made Ferdinand’s brow involuntarily furrow at the taste.

He did not complain, of course, because there was no one to complain to. He sat alone in the gardens of Garreg Mach, the sounds of victory celebrations came muted from far away.

And in truth, Ferdinand wondered if he should join. He wondered if he belonged with them, because that was what he had chosen on the battle at the bridge. He had chosen to follow their professor and Dimitri and they welcomed him with open arms.

In all these years, Garreg Mach was still beautiful at sunset. This was still where he should be, where he should feel he belonged.

But with his spear stained in Hubert’s blood, and the seat across him empty, Ferdinand wondered if everything could be different.


	2. Day 2: Modern/Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings here!
> 
> Slight hint at reincarnation so it kind of links to day 1

Hubert had gotten used to waking up to a soft hum of the latest popular tune. It was the only reason why he knew the beat to these songs that played on the radio and he was fine keeping it that way.

It was always Ferdinand who told him things like these. About what music was currently in, excitedly as he loaded up his Spotify playlist. But the songs, sang by people who sounded all the same to Hubert’s ears never stuck in Hubert’s mind until Ferdinand would hum it on those early mornings when Hubert pretended he wasn’t quite awake yet.

Ferdinand always got up before him, even if he didn’t necessarily wake up first. Ferdinand found his bearing on the floors of their bedroom so easily, without as much of a sleepy wobble, without even the slightest sound of a groan. Ferdinand was made for mornings, and Hubert had resigned himself to long nights with his fifty-pages documents, resigned himself to waking up bleary.

But as much as he wouldn’t say it, he was grateful for mornings. At least, mornings where he woke up to Ferdinand’s humming. Mornings where his unfocused eyes would fall on Ferdinand’s back, reminding himself that at least here, now, in this era and in this metropolitan city they called home, they were together at last.


	3. Day 3: Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for day 3
> 
> I imagine this to take place in the same timeline as day 2’s Drabbles

Winter was not Ferdinand’s season. 

Hubert wondered if it was because Ferdinand was so solar-powered, so bright and compatible with the star their planet revolved around. He wondered if it was because Ferdinand was not meant for the dark and the cold.

In winters Ferdinand would take longer to get up, and this was something Hubert only noticed on a particularly dark February morning nineteen months after they started dating and six since they started sharing a bed. Ferdinand brushed his hair in a slow, dragging movement that seemed so uncharacteristic for the other man. His back a little slumped, his chest heaving a heavy sigh.

Hubert wondered if Ferdinand was simply tired, but it continued well into the start of spring. 

And it was then did Hubert learnt that Ferdinand was not meant for winter.

It should not have surprised him. Ferdinand was bright and cheerful and sunny. Ferdinand revel in outdoors activities like horseback riding and picnics. Ferdinand was the epitome of spring and summer, the very antithesis of winter itself.

Or perhaps, it was natural it surprised him. It seemed like there was nothing that Ferdinand could pierce through. Nothing could his brilliant personality and loud voice could not melt.

He had melted Hubert, at least, and Hubert had felt himself to be comparable to the all encompassing winter.

“You should stay in bed,” he blurted out one January morning, two years after his first winter with Ferdinand. He ran his hands against where Ferdinand was in the bed, like tracing his shape would make Ferdinand remain.

Ferdinand smiled and tucked himself back into the blanket.

“We won’t get up on time like this,” Ferdinand said, his voice dropping to a bleary murmur.

Hubert said nothing. He held Ferdinand’s cold hands in his. 

He wondered if this could make winter better for Ferdinand.

Wondered, if tomorrow he could see Ferdinand wake up upbeat, curled up against their pillows and making the winter theirs.


	4. Day 4: Reincarnation/War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of character death (but it’s in the past they are alive and well now)

The smell of Hubert’s coffee would fill their kitchen in the morning. It had been a while since Ferdinand associated the scent with home. The hand grinder he had gotten for Hubert for a birthday or anniversary sometime early in their relationship was well used, its handle showing it with its dark spots.

“I would buy you a new one,” he had told Hubert twice or thrice before. But Hubert had always told him no, always told him that this grinder was perfect and continued to be everyday. 

The smell of Hubert’s coffee woke him up in the morning, and that's how Ferdinand would have it. That morning, like many others, it had woken him up from the nightmares he saw on a semi-regular basis.

In those nightmares he wore armor and rode a horse meant for war. He wore his hair long as he did in his reality, but it was out of practicality over fashion. In those nightmares, his name had a von in it like nobles do and he wore the name with pride despite everything that took place.

In some nightmares he died protecting a bridge with the empire he served in his mind and Hubert’s name in his heart, unspoken, silenced and never made to mean love. In those nightmares he had seen a young man he had known as his professor with a sword seemingly made of bones striking him down. In some nightmares he had died, for a cause he believed was important. In them, he had floated gently to Hubert drinking tea alone, tea that smelled so distinct and bright, like the way Ferdinand liked it. 

In others, Hubert died by the point of his spear. Hubert breathed his last with a smirk on his face and this time it was Ferdinand’s name that remained unsaid. In this, a young man who he called his professor would help him up from where he fell after striking Hubert, his hand cold and felt nothing like the home Ferdinand made in Hubert. In these, it was he who drank coffee alone, pungent and dark, like the way Hubert liked it.

In yet another path, he and Hubert lived their lives until old age together. These were the dreams Ferdinand liked best of all. In these, a young woman he had called professor fell in love with the empress of his nation, had chosen them over the other kings and lords who vied for her attention. They were more dreams and nightmares, he supposed, but a sense of unease continued to blanket over him in those dreams, even as he walked through the gardens of a beautiful monastery with Hubert’s gloved hand in his. In these, he would count the scars on Hubert’s back as they lay in bed together. 

In reality, he would compare the scars on Hubert to those in his dreams. He had made Hubert recount them over and over, their banal origins of childhood falls that created his beloved’s fear of high places. 

“They’re boring,” Hubert had said once after another story. And Ferdinand had smiled.

Because boring was how he would want this to be. Boring was their life now, politics major who met in class.

Not on the battlefield, across each other. Not on the warfront, next to each other.

Ferdinand woke up to the smell of Hubert’s coffee. And with a deep breath, he stepped into the life he had made.


	5. Day 5: Courting

Hubert wrote his letters in exceptional penmanship and Ferdinand wasn’t sure if that should surprise him. As careful as Hubert seemed, penmanship seemed to be a trivial thing and Hubert always had much more important things to occupy himself with.

But Ferdinand was grateful for Hubert’s immaculate penmanship. 

He filed Hubert’s letters in a box. Each letter seemed to vary: some perfunctory and short, beautifully written as it was, some backhanded compliments and others straight forward praises for Ferdinand’s skills. Some, written in faster, more aggressive strokes, showed frustration towards some minor offense Ferdinand did 

He read through each letter carefully when he was away, when he had time to himself and wanted a smile on a difficult day. At times, he would come up with a better response for letters from a time that had come and gone.

“Sir,” a soldier stood at his doorway, looking awkward, as if he had walked into Ferdinand doing something intensely personal.

Because he had walked into Ferdinand doing something intensely personal. 

Ferdinand smiled in return.

“Are they here?”

The soldier nodded before managing a verbal response.

Ferdinand looked out the window. In a distance, he could see an army approaching the bridge he was meant to guard.

He thought of the letter Hubert would write to him following his win, if he could win.

Or following his loss, if she should lose.

Ferdinand chuckled to himself, hoping that he would get to see it either way.


End file.
